


Pompeii

by ArtThiefAtHeart



Series: An American Winter (Spring is Coming) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, There's fluff in here i promise, taking care of business
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:38:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1899336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtThiefAtHeart/pseuds/ArtThiefAtHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nightmares have returned, and Bucky is torn. He doesn't want Steve to see the monster that he is, but at the same time, he needs to do something about Hydra. But can he juggle his days of friendship and his nights of red without Steve noticing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after 'Winter Soldier, Spring Revival', althought I don't think you would need to read that to understand this. Steve and Bucky's reunion, however, does take place in that.

The nightmares have returned. Bucky sits in his bed in Steve's apartment, his knees pulled up to his chest. His hair is plastered to his face. His eyes burn, but he doesn't want to close them, doesn't want to blink. His nightmare replays again and again in his mind. The Winter Soldier is back, clawing his way up from the pits of his brain, where Bucky had tried to discard him. He is making himself known, the villain in his dreams. Tonight, the Winter Soldier tortured Steve, laughing at Bucky as he watched helplessly. Bucky shouted, cursed, tried everything, but he couldn't stop the Winter Soldier as he ripped out Steve's heart. Steve's ice blue eyes going blank is the worst part, and it's all he can see. It's hard to admit to himself, the ugly fact that Hydra still has him. He wants to be better. He wants so badly to be okay.

Steve has introduced him to a few people. Tony Stark, Maria Hill, people like that. He has a feeling that Steve is trying to prove to everyone that he's okay. He can't let Steve down. He stares through the wall, willing away the image of dead, blue eyes. Licking his dry lips, he decides maybe what he needs is a glass of milk. He drags himself out of bed, pulls the tie a bit tighter on Steve's too-big sweatpants, and gingerly wipes sweat from the skin near his cold left arm. Then, quietly, so he doesn't wake Steve, he heads to the kitchen.

He shuffles down the halls with the stealth of an assassin, though not the grace. He brushes the hair away from his face, trying to tame it. He has contemplated getting his hair cut many times, but it has almost become a part of him. It is like a scar, a memory of what he can never be again. He isn't ready to part with it.

In the kitchen, he pulls a glass from the cabinet and the jug of milk from the fridge. He fills his glass to the top, drinks half of it, then fills it again. He puts the milk away quietly. Steve is still sleeping, or at least he assumes he is. Bucky crosses the living room to gaze out the window. The night is beautiful, sparkling and brilliant, brighter than it was in his past. It perplexes him, though, that he can't see the stars. He frowns at the sky, but the longer he stares, the more the hazy sky reflects the nightmares circling in his mind. He downs the last of his milk, rinsing his glass and placing it in the sink.

After a few moments of contemplation, Bucky shuffles to Steve's door, which stands ajar. He slips his head through the gap, watching the rise and fall of the broad shoulders that he may never get used to. He can imagine his scrawny best friend so easily, one of the clearest things from his past. He doesn't realize that his gaze has glazed over until Steve sleepily mutters his name.

"Bucky? Are you alright?" Steve mumbles, a confused worriedness in his voice. He has pushed himself onto one elbow, wiping his eyes with his free hand.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine. Just on my way back to bed," Bucky replies, his voice small and slightly scratchy.

Steve hesitates for a moment, studying Bucky's face in the dark. "Alright," he consents. "Just let me know if you need anything, alright?"

Bucky nods, extracting himself from the room. It's been a month since he reunited with Steve, and Steve is still treating him gently. He wonders if Steve can see the cracks in the old Bucky that he can see himself. He knows he can. Steve has always been able to read people. He has to fix himself. For everyone's sake, not just his or Steve's. He slides back under his sheets telling himself this again and again, and he falls asleep to this mantra.

In the quiet moments of the next day, Bucky tries to figure out how to restore his sanity. Steve is sitting on the couch facing him with a sketchbook while the news plays in the background. As the news talks about another secret Hydra agent, he realizes what he must do. Hydra made him into a weapon. They're the ones that did this to him. They must pay.


	2. Catherine

Once night falls and Bucky is sure that Steve is sleeping soundly, he slips out his window and into the night. Masked once again, and hooded as well, Bucky talks to everyone he can, collecting data through the night. The sun is about to rise when Bucky climbs back in the apartment and climbs into bed. Information spins in his mind as he drifts off to sleep. His dreams taste like the blood of Hydra.

Bucky wakes a bit late, but Steve, sitting on the couch talking to Sam, doesn't question it. He pulls a chair over, straddling the back and stuffing a bagel in his mouth. The other two men are talking about a baseball game from last week. Bucky eats quietly, awaiting nightfall.

The next week, Bucky spends his days in a haze, and his nights in the shadows. He takes out every lead he can find, but not before he drains them of information. At night, he isn't Bucky. At night the Winter Soldier reaps his vengeance so that Bucky can sleep soundly in the wee hours of the morning.

He still goes to visit Catherine. Sometimes, he shows up at her work to get coffee. Sometimes she invites him home.

"You look tired, James. Are you okay?" she asks one afternoon. They're curled up on the couch watching a movie. He isn't paying much attention, and she notices.

"I'm fine. Just tired," he reassures her, pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss on the top of her bronze hair. She smells like flowers, and he lets his nose rest on her head.

"Are you not sleeping well?" she asks, pulling back to peer at him worriedly, studying his eyes. His eyes are where she has learned that she can always find the truth.

"No," he answers simply.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight? Maybe having someone with you will help," she offers, stroking his coffee colored hair.

"I—" he stops himself. He wants to so badly. He wants to fall asleep to the scent of flowers, but he has work to do.

"It's fine," she says with a small smile. "You don't have to. Just let me know if you ever want to."

He pulls her tight to his chest, mumbling a soft thank you. He's so grateful she found him. She's been good for him. She encouraged him to find Steve. She's another person he wants to be better for. He needs as many good people in his life as he can get. He lets himself be drawn into the movie, some chick flick that, of course, he's never heard of. It's sweet, but it's slow, and he's tired. It isn't long before he dozes off, snoring softly against the top of Catherine's head. She smiles, relaxing against him.

Around midnight, Catherine is awoken by a persistent buzzing. She yawns and stretches. Bucky is slumped against the back of the couch, and it's his phone, buzzing from its spot on the floor.

"Hello," she asks, not bothering to read the caller id. Steve is the only one who has Bucky's number.

"Hey Catherine. Bucky's at your house?" There is a hint of concern in his voice.

"Yeah. We fell asleep during the movie. You want me to send him to you?" she asks. She understands Steve's protectiveness. It's sweet really.

"No, that's just fine. I don't think he's been sleeping well. Let him rest."

"Alright, bye," she whispers, folding closed the little flip phone. Bucky wanted something simple. She lays it on the floor and goes to lie back against Bucky, but he's starting to stir.

"I fell asleep," he mutters, sounding more distraught than she'd like.

"Yeah. I thought you looked tired, so I let you rest."

He needs to go. He has people to take care of, people that will do horrible things with every day they have. The last week has made him tired, though. He gazes down at her hopeful eyes, full of compassion, and he caves. He stands, scooping her up and carrying her to the bedroom, laying her down and curling around her. She sighs happily, and it makes him smile.

"Goodnight, Catherine," he mumbles into her hair.

"Goodnight, James," she whispers back.


	3. Pizza

When he returns to Steve's apartment the next day, after a long lazy morning of kissing, he has to deal with Steve's cheeky smile.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he questions, his voice a little too chipper.

Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to look grumpy, but he's in a good mood and Steve's smile is contagious. "Yeah, actually I did," he replies, and he exchanges his faux grumpiness for a smug smile.

Steve laughs, nudging Buck with his forearm. "Still a ladies man. I guess some things never change."

He shrugs. "Guess not."

The two spend the afternoon reminiscing on the dates they used to go on. Steve laughs about all the women Natasha tried to set him up with. Bucky asks why he hasn't gone out, but Steve just shrugs.

"Peggy?" Bucky questions softly with a wry smile. Steve just smiles. Bucky knows the sparkle in his eyes all too well, and he knows he's right. "I think she'd want you to find someone."

"Maybe," he replies, then he chuckles. "I've got time. I've got my whole life ahead of me." They laugh heartily to spite the pain.

Steve doesn't think much of it when Bucky retires early.

Bucky's night is red. He is determined to make up for the time lost the previous night. He clears hideouts, suffocates a man while his bruised wife sleeps soundly, and even stops a mugging between jobs. He is determined to bring healing to the world he hurt.

His last stop for the night is an abandoned-looking factory. He knows, though, that it is far from abandoned. He climbs to the roof, peering through a skylight. Shapes move below in the dim light. He drops down silently, moving along the top of the massive, towering shelves. He watches, formulating a plan. He wants to take out as many as he can, but once he starts making noise, the higher ranking people will flee. He comes to the center of the building. People are playing poker by candlelight. He decides that will be his first target. He jumps down, splintering the table, and crushes two heads together. He drags another across the table by the collar of her shirt, tossing her at a large man who is standing. Two more sit, frozen behind their cards, one with a cigar hanging from his mouth. Bucky barrels through them, slamming them against the shelves behind them. By now he can hear people coming his way. He borrows a gun and takes people out as they come around the corner, one after another. When that gun is empty, he borrows another. Soon, the warehouse is empty. He sweeps it thoroughly, though the wailing sirens in the distance tell him it's time to leave. When the police crash through the doors, there is no trace of the Winter Soldier.

The next day Bucky lays sprawled out on the floor. Steve is behind his sketchbook once again, drawing as he tells Bucky stories of their childhood. It helps him to remember. The memories are all there, and he knows it, they're simply buried under decades of torture and death. Steve is telling him about the time he tripped over the sprinkler they were jumping through, leaving Bucky to drag him out of the wet grass coughing and sputtering. The picture emerges in Bucky's mind as Steve paints the scene. He remembers that day. It was hot, and they wanted to cool down. Steve was fine, and they ran through the sprinkler for the rest of the afternoon.

Steve's story is interrupted by a firm knock on the door. Both men turn their heads towards the door.

"Coming," Steve calls, setting his sketchbook on the couch and heading to the door. Bucky sits up, examining Steve's sketch, a picture of him with his hair lying messily around his head. A woman's voice catches his ear, and he assumes it's Catherine, so he stands. When he rounds the corner, however, he sees a small redhead. He vaguely remembers having shot her, so he stands, sheepishly frozen. The woman glances past Steve, their eyes locking. There is coldness in her gaze, but she is using the cold to try to bury her fear.

"I see you found him," she mutters to Steve, and he can hear her trying to sound supportive.

Steve nods, and gestures for her to come in. She shakes her head. He watches Steve's shoulders tense, but he joins her out in the hall, gently pulling the door closed behind him. Bucky leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

Out in the hall, Natasha heaves a sigh. "We've got trouble," she mutters, voice low, eyes darting.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, eyebrows wrinkling with worry.

"Someone is taking out Hydra by the handful, and we have no idea who."

"Who's we? And why is this a bad thing?"

"We," Natasha says, "are the SHIELD agents Fury has tabs on. And it's a bad thing because anyone who can take out people in this quantity is dangerous. I'll give you one guess who suspect number one is," she says wryly. She knows how much Bucky means to Steve. She hopes it's not enough to blind him, but she's not so sure.

"Bucky? He lives with me. I think I'd know if he was going on murderous rampages." Steve insists.

"Of course. I just wanted to let you know," she replies distantly.

There is a moment of silence. "So, how have you been?" Steve asks softly. It's been months since she disappeared from the graveyard.

"Fine," she replies. "Just working on that new cover." She smiles, but her eyes tell a different story.

"You want to come in? I was going to order pizza for dinner."

She hesitates, but a ghost of a smile appears on her lips. "Yeah, why not."

Steve opens the door to find Bucky with his shoulders and his head against the wall. He straightens up when he hears them, rubbing the back of his neck a little too roughly with his metal hand.

"Hello," he says, pursing his lips, frantically trying to think of something to say. "Um, I'm sorry," he offers weakly.

"Don't worry about it," she says, but he can see in her eyes that she is suspicious of him, and that he is not quite forgiven.

He stares blankly as she strides past him to the living room. Steve follows her, patting Bucky's shoulder. He folds his sketchbook closed and sets it to the side. Natasha joins him on the couch.

"Hey, Buck, what do you want on the pizza?" Steve calls from the living room.

It takes a moment for Bucky to shake himself out of his haze. "Pepperoni and mushrooms," he replies. He gets himself a can of soda before pulling up a chair, what has become his chair since Sam scared him with a can of silly string and he crushed the back of it in his fist, splintering the wood. He uses his thumb to press open the hole on his soda, and takes a long sip.

Steve is ordering the pizza, and Natasha is studying him. "Steve told me a lot about you. I really am sorry about shooting you." He smiles wryly, and she returns it.

"Well, according to Steve, you weren't quite yourself. Now that you're not being controlled by Hydra, we have nothing to worry about, right?" Her question doesn't sound rhetorical. It sounds like she's truly questioning him.

"Right," he replies, and he knows he sounds defensive, but he can't help it. He takes a breath and a long sip of soda.

Steve has finished placing the order and is now studying the hint of hostility in the room. "Hey, Bucky, you want to invite Catherine over?" he offers, hoping to calm him. Catherine seems to have that effect on him.

Bucky nods. He sets down his soda and hurries to his room to find his phone. He has two contacts, and he presses Catherine's name. He listens until he hears her voice over the line.

"Hey, James, what's up?" she asks.

"Come save me," he whimpers, unable to help the deep chuckle that follows. "You want pizza?"

"I'll be right over," She replies.


	4. The Restroom

Catherine arrives with the pizza delivery woman. When Steve opens the door with a handful of cash, the two women are chatting happily.

"You weren't kidding," the pizza woman laughs when she sees Steve. "Captain America!"

"Yup," Catherine replies with a smile. She squeals as Bucky rushes over, scooping her up with one arm and taking the pizzas with the other. He runs to his room, leaving Steve shaking his head and chuckling as he hands over the pizza money.

"Bucky," he groans as he trudges down the hall, "I'm hungry!"

Bucky pokes his head into the hallway, a mischievous smile on his face. "You can't have any," he says. Catherine can be heard laughing in the background. His head disappears and the door closes. It's unlocked though, so Steve pushes it open. Bucky is leaning over Catherine, placing kisses on her lips. Steve takes advantage of the fact that his guard is down.

"Surprise!" he calls, heaving Bucky over his shoulder. Bucky moans and beats against Steve's back.

"C'mon, not in front of the lady," he whines as Steve carries him into the living room.

"You left me no choice," Steve replies, trying to keep a straight face. "Catherine, will you bring the pizza?"

"Already got it," she replies.

Natasha seems to relax when she sees the two men horsing around. They all sit down around an open box and chat for the rest of the afternoon. Natasha excuses herself when her phone rings, waving goodbye as she greets the person on the other line.

"I should probably head out too," Catherine says. Bucky kisses the top of her head before unfolding his arms so she can stand. She thanks them for the pizza and leaves. Steve and Bucky sit in comfortable silence until Steve's cell phone rings.

"Hello," Steve says. He chuckles as the person on the other line talks excitedly. "Just a second, let me ask Bucky." Steve presses the phone to his chest and whispers, "Hey Buck, you want to go out with Sam?"

It's starting to get late, and he needs to go out tonight. He has a lead on a lab in the back of a bar. Steve wants him to go, though, and the whole point of all this is to get better for Steve. He nods, pushing his face into a smile. Smiles are something else he needs to work on. Sometimes they come naturally, but when they don't, his forced smiles look like grimaces. Steve seems to know their intent, however.

"Yeah, we'll be there soon, Sam. Thanks."

Steve has a car now. He uses his Harley when he's going places alone. They agreed it would be a bit odd to have Bucky riding on the back. They find a spot to park and join Sam inside a busy sports bar. There's a baseball game on, and the buzz of conversation is occasionally drowned out by cheers. Bucky can't get drunk either, and he thinks it's a pity. It'd make it easier to forget his time as the Winter Soldier. He watches Sam and Steve joke around, and he can feel a bubble of nostalgic jealousy rising in him. The old Bucky was Steve's best friend. He's working on finding that Bucky, but for now, he leans in to join to conversation. Steve sees this and smiles. Every small triumph brings his best friend closer to him, and he revels in that. Bucky begins to relax despite the crowd, and though he is watching everyone, the majority of his focus goes to the conversation. They're exchanging childhood memories when Bucky sees someone who catches his eye.

A man seems to be talking to himself, but as he turns, Bucky can see an earpiece tucked in his ear. He doesn't like the look of the man, so when he goes to the restroom, Bucky excuses himself as well. The restroom has one other occupant, but under Bucky's harsh gaze, he leaves in a rush. Once the man in question finishes his business, he turns and comes face to face with Bucky.

"What are you doing," Bucky questions, his voice low.

"Geez, man, I'm taking a leak. How drunk are you?" The man tries to step past Bucky, but he's like a wall.

"You have an earpiece, and you're talking to someone. Who?"

"None of your damn busi—" the man is cut off by a cybernetic hand around his neck. Bucky pushes him against the door to ensure that he's not interrupted.

"Are you after Captain America?" Bucky asks, his face inches from the man's.

"What's it to you?" the man challenges, and the only reply is fingers closing tighter around his neck. "Hail Hydra," the man hisses, and it's more than enough to set Bucky off. His face goes cold as he crushes the man's windpipe and locks him in a bathroom stall.


	5. Revelation

He has a refill of his drink when he returns to the table, and his absence doesn't seem to have worried his friends. He surprises himself by referring to Sam as a friend, but he figures any friend of Steve's has got to be a good person.

The night gets later, and Bucky gets antsier. He excuses himself when his nervous grip creates hairline fractures in his glass. He ditches it on the counter, grabs a can of soda, and heads back to the table. To his relief, Steve is standing and shrugging on his jacket.

"Ready to head out, Bucky?" Steve asks with a smile.

"Yeah," Bucky replies, trying not to sound too relieved.

When they get home, Bucky warmly says good night, and is rewarded with a huge smile from Steve. He goes to his bedroom and dresses for the night, waiting quietly until he estimates that Steve will be asleep. He slips out the window, pausing on the fire escape to remember which way the bar is.

"What are you doing, Bucky," Steve asks mournfully, and Bucky cringes, turning to meet sad blue eyes through Steve's open bedroom window.

"I have to," Bucky mutters.

"Have to what?" Steve asks. His face falls as things begin to click in his mind. "Bucky, you're not," he hesitates, swallowing hard, "you're not the one taking out Hydra agents, are you?"

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Bucky snaps. "Why would you defend them?"

"I'm not defending them, Bucky. They're awful people, but there need to be rules. Nick Fury and his team are working on it."

"Well I'm working faster," Bucky yells, face contorted in anger. "They made me do awful things, Steve, and I relive it every night. I'm not their puppet anymore, but they do awful things without me, and they'll keep doing awful things until the day they die. I'm bringing that day a little sooner. I'm bringing an end to all this."

"Bucky, you can't do this on your own," Steve mutters softly.

"Can't I?" Bucky replies through his clenched jaw. He turns and hoists himself up onto the railing of the fire escape. "Don't follow me, Steve," he mutters before he disappears.

Steve doesn't follow him, but when Bucky returns, he's perched on the edge of his bed.

"What are you doing in here?" Bucky asks, shuffling his feet by the window.

"We need to talk about this, Buck."

"I don't want to. Just let me do this."

Steve frowns. "If you insist on doing this," he takes a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor, "at least let me go with you."

Bucky groans. "No, Steve."

"But—" Steve begins, but he's interrupted by Bucky whirling around and punching a hole in the wall.

"No, Steve! I have to do this and I have to do this alone. You're a good guy. This isn't the kind of thing you do. I won't drag you down with me."

Steve stands and pulls on Bucky's shoulder to spin him around. Their eyes lock, and a silent war rages until Steve breaks the silence. "I'm with you 'til the end of the line, pal," he whispers.

"You can't come with me here," Bucky mutters back.

"Maybe we could team up with the remnant of SHIELD."

"Steve," he says, and the tone in his voice is an echo from the past. It sounds like the apology he had to make when he left for the military without Steve.

"Don't," Steve replies. "I'm not a scrawny little boy anymore. Remember the Howling Commandos? Remember our missions? I can handle it. You don't need to protect me, Buck." He's supposed to be convincing Bucky, but the tone in his voice is more of a plea.

'I'm not protecting you from them," Bucky snarls, "I'm protecting you from me. You live with Bucky, but at night, I'm the Winter Soldier. I don't want you to see me like that." With the last sentence, his face falls, and his eyes drop to the floor.

"Bucky, I want to help you," Steve insists, trying to lean into his field of view.

"Then please let me do this," Bucky says, his voice a sad whimper.

Steve takes a deep breath and crushes Bucky to his chest. Bucky leans into the hug, though his arms hang at his sides. "It's your choice, Buck. I'm not going to try to stop you."

"Thank you," Bucky mumbles against Steve's chest.

"You want to go watch a movie?" Steve offers as he pulls back, but Bucky slumps and Steve has to catch him before he hits the floor. He's asleep, and Steve is concerned that he's out taking down Hydra by himself while he's so exhausted. He scoops up his sleeping best friend and lays him on the bed. He needs to get Catherine to distract Bucky for a few nights. Bucky came back from Catherine's rested. Steve closes Bucky's door softly, making a mental note to call Catherine in the morning.


	6. Anguish

In the morning, Bucky comes into the living room warily. He doesn't know how Steve will react to last night's revelation. Steve greets him with a smile, however.

"Morning, Bucky. How'd you sleep?" he questions gently.

"Fine," Bucky murmurs, pursing his lips.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Steve reassures him, moving around the counter to place his hands on Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky peers up at Steve. A small smile spreads across his lips. "Thank you, Steve," he whispers.

"No problem, pal."

They sit down to breakfast, and when Steve turns on the news, he's surprised to see Natasha's face.

"We're working on it," she says, "but so far the assassin hasn't left any traces behind. We do have a few suspicions, though, and we're following up on those."

"Thank you, Agent Romanoff," a woman in a pink dress suit replies. "We'll be talking more with Agent Romanoff and her associates as the story develops. Remember, this is information you can only get here," she tells her viewers. Romanoff and her associates, Steve notes. Not SHIELD. That name is tainted now. He feels a twinge of guilt as he realizes he is housing the assassin that they're searching for, and he defended Bucky to Natasha. He insisted upon his innocence.

Steve glances over to Bucky to find that the man is already studying him.

"It's me." Bucky mutters. "It's me and you've already told her it's not."

"Don't worry about it, Buck. We'll figure it out."

"Steve, this isn't your problem. It's mine and only mine. This is why I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you worrying about me," he sighs, eyebrows drawing up in a plea to drop the matter.

"Bucky, you're my best friend. I'm always going to worry about you. I always have and I always will. You were always the one taking care of me. Let me take care of you."

"I don't need you to."

"I want to, Buck. You've been through a lot."

Bucky drops his head back against the couch with a huff. "I can't."

"And why not?" Steve questions roughly.

"Because I can't hurt you, Steve," Bucky shouts, standing and throwing his hands in the air. "And don't you talk about how I won't, because I saw that look in your eyes last night. You want your Bucky back, but I can barely remember him. He's not the one in charge anymore; he's just a voice in my head, battling the Winter Soldier day in and day out. He knows this is killing you, and he's telling me to stop, but I can't. I have to do this. I have to fix the mess I made and I have to do it by myself!" Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, heaving out a sigh. He watches Steve's face, waiting for some reaction, but the man is frozen. They're still standing frozen when Bucky's phone rings.

"Hello?" he says, and Catherine's voice over the other line startles him. He doesn't know why. She's the only person who could be calling.

"Hey, James. I was wondering if you wanted to come over this afternoon for movies," she asks, and he can hear her smile.

"Yeah, that sounds great," he replies. "I'll be over in a while."

"Great, see you then," she replies, and the line goes dead.

Bucky slips the phone back into his pocket. He's reluctant to meet Steve's eyes again, but he does, and he sees exactly what he expected. Hurt. It's his job to protect Steve, though. That's one thing he definitely remembers.

"That was Catherine," Bucky mumbles, his eyes dropping to the floor. "She invited me over tonight."

Steve forces a smile. "You should go."

"I am," he replies quietly. "But," he begins, but Steve interrupts him.

"Have fun. Take a night off. Get some rest. Please."

Bucky nods somberly. "Thanks."


	7. Loner

Catherine's house smells like popcorn when he arrives. He pulls her close and buries his nose in her hair. She hums happily against his chest.

"How are you, James?" she asks pulling away just enough to peer up at him.

"I'm fine," he replies, and his smile is small and tired, but it is genuine. He wonders if the momentary questioning glance she sends his way is his imagination. He forgets it quickly when she tugs him to the couch and plays a princess movie and peppers his face with kisses. He sits slumped against the back of the couch with his arm slung loosely around her shoulders. The princess has fallen into the real world and Catherine is muttering about how much she loves the movie. He laughs along with her. By the time the credits roll, they're lying across the couch, and Bucky is fighting to keep his eyes open. He's warm and full of popcorn, and with his lack of sleep, it's a losing battle.

When he wakes up he's slightly panicked, but it doesn't take him long to reorient himself. The warm body curled into his side is a dead giveaway. He tries to get up without waking her, but she stretches, then curls her fingers into his t-shirt to tug him back towards her.

"Just a little longer," she mumbles, and he concedes with a small smile. She returns his smile sleepily and kisses his nose with a giggle.

When he returns to the apartment, Steve is sketching a bird perched on the windowsill. He glances at Bucky, flashing a weak smile. That's what he'd been afraid of. He didn't want to trouble Steve with his burden.

"Listen," Bucky begins softly, at the same time that Steve mumbles his name.

"You go ahead," Steve says.

"I'm sorry. About Hydra and stuff. I didn't really want you to know, but if you did, I sure as hell didn't want you to figure out like that." Bucky takes a deep breath and flops down on the couch. "It's my job to worry about you Steve, not the other way around."

"Not anymore, Buck. It hasn't been that way for a long time," Steve replies somewhat sternly.

"Well that's all I can remember!" Bucky shouts, then buries his face in his hands. "I know I know you. I know we're best friends. I just can't remember you being big like this. When I think back, all I see is the skinny kid from Brooklyn who wouldn't back down from a fight."

Steve moves from his spot by the window to sit by Bucky, laying a hand on his cold, metal shoulder. "I'm sorry, Buck. I understand it's hard. I can help you though. Please, let me try."

"Steve, I can't let you go against SHIELD like that. You know you're a bad liar. What if they were to ask you about all this again?"

"Well I already know you're killing Hydra agents by the handfuls. Helping couldn't possibly make it any worse." Steve flashes a cautious smile.

Bucky shrugs. "Maybe."

"At least let me come with you tonight," Steve pleads. "You're probably still a little exhausted."

"So Catherine's was your idea," Bucky remarks, the sides of his lips quirking up in the first true smile Steve has seen from him all morning.

"I may have suggested that, were she to invite you over, I would appreciate if she made you sleep." Steve shrugs nonchalantly, laughing as Bucky playfully shoves him.

"She did not make me sleep," Bucky retorts.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Steve laughs, glad Bucky has lightened up a bit. The conversation shifts, and for a while, it almost feels like the forties. Steve might be able to forget, were it not for the cold metal that rest beside his thigh and his friend's long hair and dark eyes.

When night falls, Steve believes he has convinced Bucky to let him tag along. This belief is shattered when he comes back from the kitchen with two cans of soda only to find an empty living room. He sighs and lets himself fall to the couch with a heavy plop.


	8. Human

Bucky moves swiftly through the dark. None of his victims have time to cry out. With each one he kills, he imagines the look of horror on Steve's face, and it fuels his rage. When the building has been gutted, he sits in a ball in the alley behind it trembling, trying to calm himself. He doesn't want Steve to see him like this. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this. A realization comes to him slowly as he sits, trembling. The Winter Soldier would be in charge of this situation. The Winter Soldier would be perfectly composed. This frenzy, this fear, this is human. He lets out a long sigh, and an uncontrollable laughter bubbles up in his throat. He lets it out; laughing manically until his stomach hurts and his eyes are watering. When the laughter dies down, he sits silently, feeling light. He stands and makes his way home, finally feeling like he has accomplished something.

When Bucky climbs in his window, his room is empty. He half expected Steve to be waiting for him again. He moves down the hall silently, headed to the kitchen to get a drink before he gets a few hours of sleep. The blond head visible over the back of the couch causes him to pause, however.

"Steve?" he questions quietly.

"Hey, Bucky," Steve replies, his voice a low whisper.

"I'm sorry. I just can't do that to you," Bucky says, taking a few steps towards the couch.

Steve stands and makes his way to Bucky's side, patting his shoulder before he heads to his bedroom. "I know. I'm just glad you made it back safe."

Steve's small, passive voice hits Bucky in the gut like a battering ram. His drink forgotten, he goes to bed, curling up in a ball and berating himself until he falls asleep.

When Bucky wakes up, Natasha is sitting on his windowsill.

"Good morning," she chirps.

Bucky pushes his hair out of his face and blinks at her sleepily. "What?" he mumbles.

"You seem awfully tired. Are you not sleeping well? That's understandable," she says, and to Bucky it seems like she thinks she knows something, but he's exhausted and his mind is fuzzy and he can't quite tell what she's getting at.

Another "what?" is all he can muster.

"You poor thing," she croons, "you seem confused. I'll make it easy. I followed you home last night." Her jaw is set in a hard line.

"What?" he says, bolting up in bed. He's fully awake now, and he's horrified.

"I know it's you," she deadpans. "Does Steve know?"

"He didn't know until after he talked to you," Bucky says quickly. Steve is his priority right now. Getting him into trouble like this is exactly what he was hoping to avoid.

"This has to stop now," Natasha states flatly. "We can't have you getting in our way, not when we're trying to rebuild."

"And who put you people in charge of me?" Bucky says, and he tries to keep the challenging tone out of his voice but he fails.

Natasha sighs. "You're doing this for, what, reconciliation? I know what that's like. It's our fault that Hydra grew right under our noses. We didn't see it, and it almost destroyed the world. We're trying to fix this, but we have to do it the right way. Like it or not, you have two choices. Get on board or get out of the way."

"You're wasting your time trying to stop me," Bucky replies.

"Fine," Natasha says with a shrug. "Have it your way. Just know you won't have our help when it goes south."

"I don't need it," he retorts to her back as she climbs out the window. She doesn't reply. She simply climbs down the fire escape. By the time he gets up and peers out the window, she's vanished.


	9. Hail

Steve is trying to put on a cheery face during breakfast. The room is quiet, though, and Bucky can see the tension is Steve's eyes that he assumes is mirrored in his own.

"Agent Romanoff knows," he says, assuming he can't make the moment any worse.

Steve hisses out a long low breath. "How'd she figure out?" he asks, sadly shaking his head, his oatmeal forgotten.

"She saw me last night and followed me home." Bucky replies.

"Great," Steve mumbles. "What'd she say?"

"Not much. Just that I should stop, and that I won't have their help if anything goes wrong. I think they know they couldn't stop me," he mumbles, eyes on the table. He doesn't want this to be Steve's problem. It was never supposed to be Steve's problem. He deserves to know, though.

"She'll be watching you," Steve comments.

"I know," he says.

"I still don't think you should be doing this," Steve says, a stern tone edging into his voice.

"I know," Bucky repeats softly.

"But I can't stop you?"

Bucky simply shakes his head.

"Do you want to come running with Sam and I?" Steve says as he stands, peeking at the clock.

"Sure," Bucky says, the edges of his lips quirking up in a faint smile.

Steve returns the smile, shoveling his oatmeal in his mouth on the way to the sink.

Bucky keeps pace with Steve as they jog around the reflecting pool. Every time they pass Sam, Steve mumbles 'on your left' with a mischievous grin, and Sam snaps back with references Bucky rarely understands. He follows silently, watching the two interact. He's the only one paying attention when a grenade rolls in front of Steve. He shoves Steve into the reflecting pool and pushes Sam back as he rolls to the grenade and hurls it back the way it came with all the force his cybernetic arm can muster. Steve comes up sputtering and laughing until he hears an explosion in the distance. Bucky has already taken of in the direction of the assault, catching another grenade on his way.

"Sam, what's going on?" Steve questions as he wades out.

"Looks like we're under attack," Sam says. "My wings are in the car."

"Grab them. I'm going to catch up with Bucky."

Sam nods and takes off towards his car. Steve runs up the hill after Bucky, who is now a small blur in the distance.

Bucky has caught three grenades so far. After the third, whoever is behind the assault decided to change tactics. Now he's dodging automatic gunfire as he ran, but it gives him a more definite target to run to. When he emerges from the trees he's been running though, he sees them. They're definitely Hydra.

"What do you want?" he shouts in Russian. The words feel like acid in his throat, but at the same time they make him feel powerful. He can feel his feet mirroring the Winter Soldier's gait as he approaches them.

"To kill you," a woman shouts back, her Russian just as biting as his own. She stands on top of a jeep in a green leather suit so dark it could be mistaken for black.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that," Bucky growls, and he finds that with every word the Russian flows easier. One of the men on the ground step towards him to attack, but before he can Bucky reaches out and rips the gun out of his hands, knocking him out with the butt. He flips it around and mows down a group of men, causing the rest to scatter. He dodges bullets as he winds through the cars, sliding under or flipping over, taking them out one by one.

Meanwhile, Steve is cautiously making his way up the hill. Sam lands beside him, handing over his shield.

"Thought you might want this," he says with a chuckle before flying off again.

From the air, Sam can see Bucky fighting his way through Hydra's forces, glad once again that the man is on their side now.

Once everyone else is taken care of Bucky swings up onto the jeep, grabbing the woman by the neck. "Who sent you?" Bucky hisses.

"I sent me," she chokes out haughtily, trying her best to pry his fingers from her throat.

"Nonsense," he barks, shaking her roughly. "I know you're getting your orders from Hydra."

"I am Hydra. Madame Hydra," she bites out breathily, her eyes beginning to slip shut.

Bucky grits his teeth, and he's about to crush her throat when Steve bursts out from the tree line, shouting his name in what seems like a foreign language. It takes him a moment to realize he's shouting in English. The woman falls from his hand as he turns to Steve.

"Bucky, please! Let us turn her in," Steve says, hands up to placate Bucky. Steve heard him barking out Russian a moment ago, and now, met with the fearsome look in his friend's eyes, he can see the Winter Soldier, and it worries him. "It's okay, Buck," he adds softly.

Bucky's gaze is directed at Steve, but he's staring right through him. His mind is whirring, metal on metal, the sound of the Winter Soldier clawing his way back up. The three of them, Bucky, the Winter Soldier, and whatever mix of the two he is now, all freeze, however, when Steve shouts his name one more time. "What?" he mumbles, his gaze focusing.

"Let's hand her over to SHIELD, yeah? We can get more info out of her, give them more leads. Is that okay?" Steve speaks softly, so Bucky has to concentrate on his voice. He steps closer with every word, climbing up onto the jeep, stepping over the woman, and putting his hands on Bucky's shoulders. "Are you okay?" he mumbles.

Bucky's eyes focus on Steve's face after a moment. He blinks a few times, lips pursed, edges pointed downward. "I don't know," he chokes out quietly.

"C'mon. Let's go home."

Bucky nods, his shoulders slumped, making him seem smaller. Steve puts an arm around him and guides him away as Sam arrives with Natasha.

"Can you get a ride back with Natasha? I need to get Bucky home," Steve murmurs.

"Yeah man, you do whatever you need to do to get him right. We got this," Sam assures him.

Natasha is hoisting the woman who identified herself as Madame Hydra into the backseat of her car. "We need to talk later, Rogers."

Steve feels Bucky flinch. "Yeah, sure. Later." He leads Bucky away, down the hill and to the car.


	10. Stories

Bucky is silent the whole way home. He doesn't say a word as Steve guides him up the stairs, simply letting himself be led. It isn't until he's laid out on the couch, tucked under a blanket, that he speaks. Even then, he just mutters a soft 'sorry', one that Steve might've missed from the kitchen had he not been lingering on Bucky's every ragged breath. Steve appears at Bucky's side with a glass of water.

"Don't be sorry, Buck. You were just trying to protect everyone."

"But I didn't want you to see me like that," he mutters angrily. "I'm trying to do better, but after what Hydra did I can't just do nothing."

"I know, Bucky. You've explained it to me. I understand," Steve says patiently.

"It shouldn't be this hard to be to a person."

Steve watches Bucky's face for a moment, observing the waves of anger and sadness that wash over each other. "Hey Bucky, do you remember the time we scared Mrs. Lola's cat, and it ran up a tree, and we didn't want to upset her because she was so terrible to deal with so we tried to get it down? I started climbing even though you told me I'd fall, and of course I did, but you cushioned my fall. You spent the rest of the summer with a bruised rib, but I never heard you complain. You still took care of me like always, including standing between me and Mrs. Lola's rolled up newspaper when she saw her cat."

"I think I might remember that," Bucky mumbles.

"Well," Steve begins again, "do you remember when we graduated high school? The robe swallowed me and I kept tripping on it. You refused to stand in your place, and you told the principal it was because you had to walk behind me and hold me up. I hit you for that one, but you just laughed, and two minutes later you caught me before I fell again."

Bucky's eyes are unfocused, but he makes a motion that seems like some confused mix between a nod and a shrug.

"What about the time we went fishing, and the fish pulled me right off the deck because I panicked and didn't let go of the rod? You jumped in and pulled me out and told me how stupid I was, then took me home and wrapped me in a blanket and told me again how stupid I was. I might've believed that you were upset of you wouldn't have made me soup and gave me your hat."

The night goes on, and Steve sits on the floor next to the couch telling story after story. If he repeats a few, Bucky either doesn't notice or doesn't mind. It's around three or four am when Bucky's eyes slip closed and his breathing softens. Steve stays awake, still murmuring stories, monitoring the rise and fall of Bucky's chest. The sun rises and Steve babbles on, recalling every single, precious story he can from the era when they were still just two boys from Brooklyn. When Bucky stirs, the sun has risen overhead, and Steve has finally fallen silent.

"Steve?" he mumbles sleepily.

"Yeah, Bucky?" he replies.

"Can you tell me the one about the time we swam in that river on the fourth of July one more time?"

Steve smiles warmly. "Of course." And so he does, elaborating more on the way he squealed when a fish brushed his leg, and how the current tried to take him but the current wasn't as strong as Bucky. Bucky's stare is still vacant, but there is recognition in his eyes. Steve hopes it is true recognition, and not just a memory of the story being told a few hours ago. As he's telling Bucky about the old man who gave them penny candies on their way home despite them practically being grown men, his phone rings.

"Hello," he says and he hears Natasha's voice filter through the earpiece.

"Hey, Steve," Natasha says, her voice all business, "we have an id on the woman you sent us." Much to Steve's relief, she doesn't mention Bucky's rampage. Steve's gaze drifts over to Bucky, who is still staring vacantly. "Her name is Ophelia. She's another Hydra experiment. She won't give us anything, though."

"Alright," Steve replies with a sigh. "Anything else?"

Natasha is quiet for a moment. "They've assumed, considering his acts yesterday, that Barnes is the one responsible for the unauthorized assaults on Hydra," she says softly.

Steve grimaces. "And do they plan to do anything about it?"

"Not as of right now," she replies. "I'll keep you posted, though."

"I appreciate it."

"And Steve? Don't get yourself into trouble," she chuckles.

"Too late," he replies. There is another soft laugh before the line goes dead. Bucky is still sitting perfectly still. He would look serene, if it weren't for the furrow in his brow and the lost daze in his eyes. "Hey, Buck," he says, returning to his seat next to the couch, "Are you hungry?"

Bucky's gaze slowly drifts until it falls on Steve. "Um, yeah, I guess so."

"How's pancakes sound?"

Bucky nods.

"Great," he says, flashing a smile that Bucky doesn't return. He goes to the kitchen, watching the tip of Bucky's head as he makes pancakes. He's so distracted that he burns the first batch. He forces himself to focus on the pancakes, telling himself nothing can happen to his friend in the time it takes to cook a meal.


	11. Punk

When the pancakes are finished and he carries the twin stacks to the living room, Bucky is sitting up with his knees to his chest, bundled in his blanket. Bucky takes his plate, pouring syrup on his stack, then balancing the plate on his knees as he systematically slices and devours his pancakes. When Steve looks up from his plate, Bucky is smiling softly.

"You tossed out the burnt ones," Bucky mumbles when he sees he has Steve's attention.

"What?" Steve says.

"You tossed out the burnt ones," Bucky repeats. "You can afford to do that now."

Steve pauses. "Yeah," he replies softly.

Bucky just shakes his head. "Big shot," he remarks, one of the corners of his mouth quirking up.

"Shut up," Steve chuckles.

Later that afternoon, sitting around watching the news, Steve can almost imagine that yesterday never happened. Catherine comes by with a pie and chats for a while. Sam calls to invite them out for dinner. The night goes off without a hitch. Once Steve is in bed, however, he hears the quiet whoosh of Bucky's window opening. He sighs and rolls over, grimacing at the wall. He can't stop him. He can't dissuade him. He knows one thing that he can do, however. Hurriedly he grabs his shield and climbs out his window to stalk Bucky through the night.

Bucky creeps into an old office building. It looks abandoned, but he knows better. Two floors up, dim light shines under a door. He lets himself into the next room, peeling open the air duct like a can of sardines and climbing inside. He peers into the room. It holds three men, and an assortment of computers and file cabinets. It's an easy target, as long as he takes care of them before someone can set off an alarm. He waits until one of the men is peering over another's shoulder at a screen to drop in. He smashes their heads together and turns to the other man, who's frozen in his chair. Bucky saunters over to him and closes his metal fingers around the man's neck, squeezing until he hears a pop. The man slumps onto the floor when Bucky releases him. He kicks the body aside and sits down at the computer, eyes flicking as lines of data scroll down the screen. He works in silence for a moment. His heart goes still, however, when he hears a gunshot. He begins to dive sideways out of the chair, even though he knows he won't have enough time to move. As he fall, he hear the bullet ricochet off of something metal, accompanied by a thud. He turns from his position in the toppled chair to see Steve standing over him.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, anger edging its way into his voice.

"Watching your back," Steve replies flatly.

"You shouldn't be here. I don't want you involved in this," Bucky states as he begins to push himself to his feet.

"Apparently I should be here," Steve bites back, gesturing to the unconscious man with his shield.

"I could've handled it," Bucky replies, practically shouting now.

"Thank you would be fine," Steve says, his voice level.

Bucky falls silent, eyes narrowed. He pushes past Steve and breezes out of the room without another word. Steve stands there, eyes on the floor, and the paperwork strewn there. He sends Natasha a text that holds the coordinates and an apology, then leaves as well.

Bucky is in bed when Steve gets back. Steve watches him for a moment, wondering if he's asleep or not. He tells himself that surely Bucky would feel his gaze if he were awake, so he leaves, crawling into his bed with a knot in his stomach. He can't sleep, not with a problem so big floating around in his head. His phone trills softly, and he squints against the light to read Natasha's reply.

'thx :)' is all it reads.

He drops the phone back onto his nightstand and rolls out of bed, making his way to the living room. Steve flicks the television on, keeping the volume low so he doesn't disturb anyone, and slouches down to watch reruns of Friends. After a few episodes, he hears feet padding down the halfway. Peeking over the couch, he meets Bucky's eyes just as the man emerges.

"Getting a drink," Bucky mumbles. The man's hair is a rat's nest from tossing and turning in bed, and this fact doesn't go unnoticed by Steve. He assumes Bucky can't sleep either.

"Want to watch tv?" he offers. Bucky shrugs and nods. They settle in, and after a few episodes, Steve hears Bucky chuckle at something Chandler said. He smiles softly. He knows he can't force Bucky to stay here, but he almost wishes he could. He wants to live forever in moments like this when, if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend they were young again, back in Bucky's apartment. The ghost of his best friend sitting next to him disturbs his delusions, however. The sheen of his metal arm and his long, unruly hair prevent him from lying to himself. Bucky glances over and catches Steve staring.

"I've thought about getting a haircut," Bucky says, easily picking up on Steve's train of thought. "The hair has kind of become proof that I lived through the Winter Soldier, though. I know it's a bit ridiculous," he mumbles, staring down at his hands as he wrings them together.

"Hey, it's your choice, Buck. I don't mind," Steve replies.

"Yeah you do," Bucky sighs. "I've seen all your dumb, puppy dog eyes when you think I'm not looking. You want the old days back, and I'm trying, but I don't know if I can do that."

"I just want you to be happy," he mumbles. Bucky falls silent. "I want you to get your life back. Whatever life you want, Bucky."

"This is what I want right now, Steve," Bucky says, and Steve's name quivers on his tongue. "I want to take down Hydra. I have to."

"I've been there, you know," Steve mumbles, eyes falling to the floor. "When you fell off that train, the only thing on my mind was taking out Hydra. In hindsight, I suppose I was a bit reckless, but they took you from me. I blamed them for your death, and I swore I'd take out the whole organization. I failed, obviously. But that's because I tried to do it alone."

"I've spent the waking moments of the last seventy years of my life getting things done alone. It's all I can do now," Bucky argues.

"I don't believe that," Steve states flatly.

"And why not?" Bucky shouts, shrinking down when he realizes what he's done.

Steve just shakes his head. "Because I know you can do anything, Buck," he replies softly, eyebrows furrowed with determination.

"Why the hell do you trust in me so much?" Bucky asks.

"Because you're my best friend. I know everything may be a bit fuzzy to you, but for me, it's one of the clearest things in my mind."

Bucky stares at Steve for a moment, studying his earnest stare. "You draw me a lot," Bucky says. Steve seems unfazed by the about face the conversation has done.

"Yeah. I used to draw you a lot when we were younger, too. You were the only one who would let me."

"I think I remember that. You would fuss at me if I moved before you were done," Bucky says, staring off into the distance. "When you had scarlet fever my mom wanted me to stay away from you so I would get sick, but you didn't have anyone to draw, so I snuck in when my mom thought I was out playing baseball." The words flow from Bucky's lips as if in a daze. He furrows his brow and peers up at Steve. "Is that right?" he questions.

"Yeah, Buck, that's exactly right," Steve reassures him.

"See? I'm trying. But to be me, to be able to bury the Winter Soldier, I need to know he's no longer needed, and to know that, I need to know that Hydra's gone. Make sense?"

Steve nods solemnly, leaning back against the couch. "Yeah," he mutters.

Bucky nods. "Good."

They sit for a while longer, watching until the early morning infomercials come on.

"Good night, punk," Bucky says on his way to his room. Steve freezes, hand on his doorknob, breath caught in his throat.

"Night, jerk," he mumbles, and the words are like a long forgotten ritual from a time when their exchanges were casual, not loaded with tension. He slips into his room and melts into his bed, unsure whether to call this night a victory or a defeat. He can see Bucky on the surface, but he knows the Winter Soldier is just under the water. He goes to sleep with the word 'punk' echoing through his mind in Bucky's Brooklyn drawl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is one of my favorite chapters. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. :)


	12. Waffles

When Steve gets up, there's clanging in the kitchen. Concerned, he creeps down the hall and around the corner, but when he sees the man in the kitchen, the tension drops out of his shoulders. Bucky is standing behind a pile of Belgian waffles, gazing intently at the waffle maker. His hair is pulled back, and with his back turned to Steve, Steve can clearly see where skin and metal meet. He studies the area until Bucky whirls around to face him.

"Morning," he mumbles as he hurriedly tugs on the t-shirt he had left on the countertop.

"Morning," Steve replies with a smile, trying to ignore his friend's self-consciousness. "That's a lot of waffles," he points out.

"Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I invited Catherine and Sam over. I don't have Agent Romanoff's number, so I asked Sam to call her for me," Bucky says, still carefully monitoring the waffle maker.

"You have Sam's number?" Steve asks, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," Bucky mutters. "He's a nice guy. He told me to call if I ever need anything. Don't know that he actually expected me to, though." The waffle maker chimes, and Bucky fishes out the fresh waffle carefully with his cybernetic fingers.

"Yeah, that he is. So what's this all about?" Steve asks, leaning on the counter to watch Bucky meticulously pour batter into the waffle maker.

"No reason," Bucky mumbles through his concentration. "I just thought it'd be nice to have everybody over. You know, get to know Sam and Natasha better." The way Bucky trips over Natasha's name, foreign and too informal on his tongue, is not lost on Steve. He doesn't mention it, though.

"That's an awesome idea, Buck."

Bucky nods, watching the waffle maker, waiting for the next chime. There's a knock at the door instead. Bucky looks torn, glancing from the waffle maker to the door.

"I'll get it," Steve says, and he watches Bucky relax, turning his focus back to the waffles.

Sam and Natasha are laughing about something when Steve opens the door. Steve greets them, and they follow him inside. Natasha flops onto the couch, Sam sits on the counter, and Steve goes back to his spot against the counter. Bucky glances around, managing a smile. Sam takes a waffle from the stack and starts eating, eliciting a giggle from Natasha.

"Hey, these are really good, man," Sam says, gesturing with his waffle in Bucky's direction.

"Thanks," Bucky replies. He makes two more waffles before Steve can convince him to sit down. As soon as he sits down, however, there is another knock at the door. Bucky practically bounces to the door. He scoops up Catherine and whirls her around before he sets her down and kisses the top of her head. "Hungry?"

"Starved," she replies with a smile.

The pile of waffles gradually shrinks. Steve convinces Natasha to juggle spoons. Sam hangs a spoon from his nose and tells corny jokes. Bucky keeps up with conversation, contributing frequently. This surprises Steve, but it's a pleasant surprise. Steve watches him smile and laugh and Sam's dumb jokes.

"So, Bucky," Natasha begins, and Steve involuntarily cringes, "has Steve taken you to get frozen yogurt? I'm pretty sure that's new." Steve breathes a silent sigh of relief. He never knows what to expect from her.

"Uh, no. But it's just like ice cream, right?"

Natasha laughs. "No! It's so much better. You get to add all your own toppings from this huge buffet. It's delicious. You've got to take him some time, Steve," she insists.

"I don't see why not," Steve replies with a grin. "Sound good to you, Buck?"

"It's a date," Bucky replies with a chuckle. Sam throws him head back and laughs.

"You guys are a hoot, you know that?"

Natasha groans. "No, Sam, no more bird puns."

"I said 'hoot', Nat. That's a word, not a bird pun," Sam retorts.

"I'm watching you, Wilson," she says with mock-seriousness.

"That's creepy, Nat," he replies. The table bursts into laughter.

An hour later, the last of the waffles have been devoured in an eating contest. Everyone is slouched in their chairs, absolutely miserable, although Natasha's victory has affixed a smug smile to her face.

"So, that was a bad idea," Sam says with a chuckle followed by a groan of pain. "I'm never gonna move again."

Steve chuckles. "I wonder if the wings will hold you up after all that."

Sam frowns at him, but he can't keep a straight face for long. "You think you're so funny."

"Nah, I know I'm funny," Steve replies, flashing a snarky smile in Sam's direction. Sam's rebuttal is a spoon thrown at Steve's head.


	13. Pillows

Once the house is empty again, Steve tells Bucky good night and retreats to his room. Bucky assumes he'll be on his own tonight, but unless he can find more intel, it'll be a short night. Even with the resources at the warehouse, he's only got one stop tonight.

The place is quiet. Bucky slinks from one shadow to another, slips inside, and locates his route to the basement. He can see a single man off in the distance, furiously typing away at a computer, surrounded by screens. A printer works noisily beside him, covering any noise Bucky might make quite well. He walks up behind the man an grabs his hands, pulling him away from the desk. The man shouts, but Bucky clasps his metal hand over the man's mouth to silence him.

"Hush," he barks, his voice low. "You only speak to tell me what I want to know. Yes?" The man mumbles out what he assumes is an argument, so he begins to squeeze, slowly crushing his wrists. "Yes?" he repeats, and the man nods frantically. "Good. Now, is there information on these computers that can lead me to more Hydra bases?" The man nods again. "Good. How do I find it?" He uncovers the man's mouth to let him speak, shifting the man's hands to his metallic one for a better grip.

"There a locked file. I can get you in it, though. Just please, don't hurt me. I was only here for the incentives program," the man whimpers.

"No. Tell me how to do it."

"I can't do that, it's not that simple," he insists. Bucky begins crushing his wrists again, and this time, he isn't gentle. The man cries out before yelling, "Fine, fine. I'll tell you how." Bucky nods. "You must go into the file marked 8021094, and enter the passcode CRDFLOY. In that file are all the coordinates you'll need."

Bucky tosses the man onto the ground, crushing his ankle underfoot to ensure he stays put. He locates the file and enters the passcode, grinning when the file opens and numbers start scrolling past. He tells the computer to print, shoves the paper into his pocket, then turns to the man who is clutching his ankle. "You say you didn't want to be affiliated with Hydra? I can see the lie in your eyes. I never wanted to be affiliated with Hydra, so don't mock me." He hands the man a tightly wrapped package of explosive that he liberated a few nights ago. Once he's clear of the building, he hits the detonator, feeling the rush of warmth against his back. Steve will be upset with him for this one.

In the morning, Bucky wakes to Steve staring down at him. He jumps, startled, before throwing his pillow at Steve.

"If you're gonna yell at me, at least wait until I'm out of bed," he mumbles.

"You blew up a building, Bucky!" Steve shouts, throwing his hands in the air with exasperation.

"Yeah, but it was basically empty," Bucky replies, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"That's not the point," Steve exclaims. "You blew up a building," he says slowly, placing individual emphasis on each word.

Bucky rolls over, pulling his comforter up and putting the pillow over his head. "Steve," he moans, dragging the word out, "I'm doing this my way."

Steve tugs the pillow out of Bucky's hand and begins hitting him with it. Bucky lets out a distressed shout, hiding under his blanket, but Steve continues to assault him. Bucky bursts into laughter. Steve stops hitting him, and Bucky is just peeking out from his blanket to see if he is safe when 200 pounds of super soldier flop across him.

"Steve! You're going to killing me!" Bucky wheezes, still laughing as he tries to roll Steve's dead weight off of him.

"Sorry," Steve replies, his voice muffled by the blankets, "just doing things my way."

"Steve," Bucky groans, and Steve's whole body shakes with laughter. Bucky is finally able to squirm out from under him. "Punk," he states, hitting Steve with his pillow.

"Jerk," Steve replies, rolling onto his back and making a face.

"I could've died," Bucky states accusatorily, feigning an injury. Steve snorts and gives Bucky a shove, and he tumbles off the bed.

"It'll be worse next time. No more explosions," Steve replies flatly.

Bucky rolls his eyes. "Fine."

"Now c'mon, we're going to brunch with Sam."

At the little diner, Sam informs Bucky that men don't call it brunch.

"That's ridiculous," Steve exclaims. "What is it, then?"

"It's breakfast, man," Sam insists. "Brunch implies mimosas and girl talk."

"Since when?"

"Since forever?"

"Not in the forties!"

"Well then since the fifties!"

"Would putting the word 'man' in front of it make you feel better? Do we need to call it man brunch, Sam?"

"No! It's breakfast!"

Bucky is sitting back with his arms folded across his chest, enjoying the back and forth. The waitress comes, and he gives her his order. She goes unnoticed by the others, still arguing semantics, until she comes back with Bucky's drink.

"Where'd that come from?" Sam asks.

"The waitress brought it because I put in my order," Bucky replies with a smug smile.

Steve and Sam sheepishly place their order, and the conversation turns to casual discussions of sports.


	14. Peace

That afternoon, Bucky sits on the living room floor with a map and the list of coordinates he printed off, marking what he can, making a list of the bases overseas, and crossing off bases he's gutted. As he does so, he realizes that, though New York is almost clear, he hasn't accomplished as much as he thought. He looks up at Steve, who is on the couch huddled behind his sketchpad.

"Do you think SHIELD would want a list of Hydra bases?" he asks, sounding more nonchalant than he thought he'd be able to manage.

"I doubt they'd turn it down," Steve replies with a lopsided smile.

"Do you have a fax machine?" Bucky asks.

"No, I don't. SHIELD usually just sends me emails." Bucky shoots him a questioning look, so he elaborates. "Electronic letters. But your list is a paper copy, so that won't work. I'm not even sure SHIELD has a fax number. I guess I could ask Nat." Bucky nods, so he reaches for his cell phone.

"does shield have a fax number?" he types. The little message whooshes away, and he watches Bucky study his map until his phone tells him he has a reply.

"nope. why?" she replies.

"because we have some papers for you."

"wanna get dinner?"

"i don't think bucky will give up the originals."

"dinner near a copy store?"

"sure."

Steve pockets his phone and turns his attention to Bucky, who is still studying his map, scribbling notes into a small notepad. "Hey, Buck, Natasha said she'll meet us for dinner and we can swing by a copy shop. How's that sound?"

"Yeah, good," Bucky mumbles between muffled groans of frustration.

"Are you going out tonight?" Steve asks cautiously.

Bucky pauses in his examination and planning to shrug.

Steve just nods.

Steve and Bucky go to the copy shop before they meet with Natasha. The man behind the desk fidgets under Bucky's intense gaze until Steve drags him away to look at envelopes. Once the papers are ready, they find Natasha.

"Wow, this is a lot of coordinates," she comments as she leafs through the lists and maps. "How sure are you that they're reliable?"

"Most of the coordinates in New York are correct. I assume that means the rest are as well," Bucky replies.

"Will this be helpful?" Steve asks. He's hoping for a yes. He wants Bucky to let SHIELD help him. This feels like progress, but it also feels fragile. He's worried about the two of them and their abrasive personalities.

"Absolutely," Natasha replies, and her tone holds an unspoken 'duh' that makes him chuckle.

"Will you need my help?" Bucky asks, and Steve doesn't want to hear the answer, but it's important to Bucky.

"Well, you seem to be keeping tabs on New York pretty well, so if you can keep that up, we can focus on sending out teams to take care of the other bases. Sound good?"

Bucky nods, and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. Natasha mirrors the small movement, but Steve's smile is anything but small.

"Maybe you'll let me help too now?" he laughs, shoving Bucky's shoulder with his own.

"Yeah, maybe," Bucky groans, but the smile is still on his lips, and the groan is accompanied by a chuckle.

That night after dinner, Natasha insists they go get frozen yogurt. Bucky comes out of the store with the frozen yogurt cup of a nine year old, with three kinds of yogurt and a million toppings spilling over the edges. Steve and Natasha laugh as he tries to walk and eat but fails to do so without losing a few toppings. Bucky texts a picture of his monstrosity to Catherine with only a little help from Natasha. The three of them stroll through the park until their yogurt is gone, then they part ways.

Back at the apartment, Steve tells Bucky good night and goes to sleep, resting somewhat peacefully. When he wakes in the middle of the night to get a drink, he can hear the soft babble of the television in the living room. He finds Bucky sprawled across the couch, remote clutched loosely in his right hand, his left hand balled and resting on his bare chest. His breaths come slowly, and Steve is careful not to wake him. Asleep, his face doesn't look so tormented. Bucky looks like he's at peace, and that's how Steve wants it to stay. He lays a blanket across Bucky before he goes back to sleep.


End file.
